


#SepticSacrifice

by XxWolfOfNightxX



Series: The Antisepticeye Torture Hour [2]
Category: jacksepticeye
Genre: Beheading, Blood, Gen, Gore, Hallucinations, NSFW, Psychological Torture, Torture, Vomit, suicidal suggestions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 19:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13488465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxWolfOfNightxX/pseuds/XxWolfOfNightxX
Summary: Anti decides to have Jack join him for a charity live stream. F̧͜u҉̴͡n̕ a̸͝n̴̡d̷͡ ̷̨̨͘g̵̷̡ą̵͟m̡̧̛͟ę̵̧s̕̕͜ ͜҉̧̨e͞n̴̶̢͟s͘͟͝͝u̷̷̷͠͞e͘!̷̢̕͞





	#SepticSacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing so many people like the last one I made, I decided to write some more! I needed an excuse to practice writing gore more anyway! Plus, it's fun writing as Anti!
> 
> But fair warning, so I'll put it here too, this has got some graphic stuff in it, plus some suicidal suggestions from hallucinations, so please don't read if you can't handle those things!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this one too!

There was hardly anyone who would suspect that something was wrong. Sure, there was always the theorists, forever there, always watching as he was. Everyone had their guard up, especially after the ‘Overnight Watch’ incident. However, no one suspected a thing when Jack announced another charity live stream.

 

It wasn’t until the live stream went live that people noticed that things were horribly wrong.

 

Jack wasn’t the one to greet everyone. No, Jack was tied in his chair, hands behind his back, head hanging down, face covered by his hair, expression unreadable. There was faint groaning that could be heard from the man. The comments instantly filled with responses like ‘what the fuck??’, ‘Are you ok??’, and ‘This is so fake’.

 

**Ṋ͈̝̹̗̟͜ow̪, ̺̥̬no҉̠̮̼͉̟͍ͅw͎ ̠̥͇p̗̩̞u̵p̲p҉̘̪̪e̲͓͓͔͎̗̮͜t̬͎̦̼͘s̝̞.̲̦͉̮̘ ͎̙̖̯̰͓͜D̗̗̯o͍̤n҉͓̣̜̭̻̯͈'̝̹̥t̳ ̯̥̭͈̕g̢ḙ̩̺̘̻͇̕t͇͚̻͇̯̬͉ ͍̘̬̖͚e͜x̼̺̦̟c̳i͝t̰̪͚̻ẹ͠d̳͕ ͕͙͙̱̯ṋo̢̥̠̺͓̼̯w̝̖͍̰͠.̳ ͅY̭̝̺̗͇ơ̳u̯̥̬̪̖̥̕ ̙̯̹̞h̥̭̮̗̺͈̬a͎̺̺̼̥̙v̡̩͓e̱͍n̰̜'̧̘͈̣t҉ ̶͙͍̜ͅȩ̯v͢e̘n̖̖̬̰̳ ̵͍̳̰ͅs͝ee̤̟͓̠̩̦n̹̮͈̠̟̖ ̛̲̥̗̗m̪͙̦̲̻̯ͅe̩̲̳͕͈̣ ̶y̞̦͉͚̟͟ͅe̛͉̠͓͙͔̲̳t͇͖͍͟!̯͈**

 

The camera glitched and was moved up. There he stood. Anti smiled, his giggles echoing in the background. The chat exploded, wondering how and why and any other question that came to mind.

 

**D̸͙͈̮̠ͅͅo̜̙n̺͍̘͇̬͕͠ͅ'̢t̖͔͎̫͖ ̞̗̱͍̗̫̪w̯͈̤̠͍̤̺a̬͈s̺͚̗t̡͚͙e̝̻ ̖̖y̠̰͔̭͚̯̩o̧̟͇͚̺̦̪u̙̣͉̮̬̠ͅr ̫̩̱͎̗̖̮͞en̶̗e̸̗̺͉͈͙r̖̙gy͈̙̹̠̳̩ ͉͙y̻̬̝̹̫̦e̱̩̭̤̦̕t͎,͏ ̯̺̙̳w͕ḙ̸̦͚̟͙̹ͅ'̷r̖̻͉̙͖̻ẹ̖͍͈͎̤ ͙͕͙h̥̞͙̙̳̖̹er̢̩ḛ͕̳͉͎̹͝ ̗̮͙̙̘̹͠t͍͙̯̜͍͇̹o͏̫̹̲̫ ̛d̼o̜̙ ͓̺s̝͎͓͓̭o͕͉͎͖̖͍̠m͕̰͕̦̖͖e̻̙̣̲̖̞͠ ̥͚̖g̪o̖̤͕͙̙͍͞ͅo̱͚͎̙̦̜͇d͇̼̹ ̲̯̯̣̺͖̟͠t̟o͕̰̭̕d͙͈̳̝͝ay̤̠̯̠͈!͕̦ ̤̳I̤̼̥̲͎̮̠s̸̻̻̲n̟̩̻̯͎̫'̻͉̰͉̩̫t̛͔͖̘̬̦̱̞ ̷͚̥t̢͓̥̙̪h͔͉͓̜̭̥͘a̠͓̞̫̦͚̻͢t r̡̤̰i͏g̣͚̥̳̝̦h̤̬͙͙͉̱̝t͜,͉̗̬̣̘̲̘ ̳͇̟̘̝J͔̠̻ͅa̶̻̹̳c̺̮̲͙̜̫͜k̲̟͈̥͔̫̥?̨̥̼̩̘̣̰͓**

 

Anti fixed the camera back to its original position. Jack slowly lifted his head up. Though no injuries were visible, the man still looked like he had been through hell and back.

 

**A̹s̭ ҉̯̪̪̖m̺̗̬u̩̞̮͕̫̫͙c͇̖͕̭̲̞̳h̳̻͎̥̪̦ ҉͙̩̫͍̫͎ͅą͚͖̬̠͈̜s ̥͚̱̲͜i͕̲̫̹͚͍̫t̘̼͈͈̰͔͔͠ ͈͔͕p͎͔̣̫a͜i͏͔̩̭͓̞̺n̼̞̗̝e̘̣͓̙̙̣̩d ͙͉̮͈m̧͕̹e҉͈̻̘̭͎ ̘̬̹͎̰̝̩to͎ ̸ḑ̩̙͚o̶̳̩̱̫̻,̷ ͎̬͕̱̝̫͘ͅI̱͎͖͈͚̟̣ ̳̼̯͖͉̞͔h̵̗̥̹ą͎̹d̴͓̪ ̷͙t͓͚̼͉ͅo̭ ̣̺̮͇cl͔̲̬̦ȩ̱̺͚͈a̖͍͇̪̲͖̮n̲ ̬͔ụ̴p̰̕ J̡a҉c̬̼̳̖̘̟͜k̬̫̦͚̙̼̮i̳̺͉͈̥̦̰e͚̱̥̖̞ͅͅ ͇̩̠͙h͏e͚̦̳̬re҉͕̰͙ ͞s̠͉̼͈̤͉̺͜o̟̼͓͍̜ ̼̟̙̤͍͞h͖̱̤̲̗e ̜̖̤̘͡c͍͚͔͖o͈u̯̲̪̲̮̜̼͜l͍̳̜̯d̢̖͙̱ ̮͈̺c̛̙̭͎͉o̰̭͚̘͟n̴t͏r̗i̛͉͓̞͖͙̠bṳ̶̞̜̜͓t͏͕̲̺̭̣ͅḛ͙ ̻͎͍̗̟̺͠ț͙͍̣o͉̮̳͘ ̲͔͍̜t̢͉̹̩͎h̭̪̺̲͎͔̬̕i͙̳̞̰ͅs̠̖̰͔͎̫̭ s͉͚͍̩̳͡t̸r͏̥̰͎e̼̤̭͖̳̫ͅa̷̘̜͉̜͉̳̲m̤̬̥̦͟.̰**

 

Anti sat down in a nearby chair, his back turned to the camera. A sudden sound of sharpening steel resounded throughout the room. The sound went on for several long minutes before Anti finished. Jack stared, wide-eyed as he watched the man, fear obviously written across his face. Jack gulped nervously. Anti turned around, his favorite knife gleaming in the light.

 

**W̶̥h̠̪̗̳̰̳̭y̯̣̜͢ ̛̮̪̼d̻̖͎̕o̢̳̙̯ͅn̤͟'̢̯̜̫̱̳̻t̥̟͈̪ ͏̩͈I͢ ̳͘te͚̫̗̟͖̣͢l̵̪̫͉̮̻̣̥ḻ͈͚̟̞̫̲ ̡͚̫͇̩̝̥y͎̮o̸͙̤̩̩͈u ̸̥̲a̱̞b̧̯̱o͎͙͔̥̣̠̭̕u̻͓͕t͙̣̹̜ ̝͉͍͓͔w͕̻͈͎ͅh͎͓̳̹͡a̱ͅt̝̰͖̠̪ ̢c̡͎̫̟͔̹͈̳h̦͘a̻̖̘̤͙̖̼r̛i̘͇̥͚̝̲͝t̳y͏̮̱̰͎̺̹ ̛̼̯͉̲͚̗͔w̹̩̣͔͈̼e̹'̛̦ͅr̡̥̰e̤̖̲͈ ̰̫̣̠̺̫̗͞r̨a̴̝͉i͖̳̺ͅs̱i̪̠̙̤n̘̱̙͙g̶̠̦̳̱̝̫ ͈̱̲̥̭̗̖̕m̳͎̤̖͉̞o̯͓̠͉̣͓ͅn͝e̗͙͕͉͍͕̕y̹͔̭͖̠̣ ͈͎͔̻̰f͇̩̯̘͍o̲̩̼̹̥̯͘r͕̯̪͉̤ ͖̳̱̹̟t̢o̞͖̝̺͉̞͡d̜a̵͔̮y͠?͙̞̜̯̮**

 

“You’re not raising money for anything...This is all some sick game to you..” Jack managed to say.

 

**O̕h tha͝t's wh̢ere͡ ̴y̷ǫu'r͢e ҉w͏r͡ong!̕ W҉e're ̵ra̡įsing ̨m̛o͡ņey ̶to͝d̷ay ͠fo̡r S͏ave the̕ Ch̡i͢ldren! Yo̡u k̴n͟o͜w̡,̨ the ̧char͜i̵ty ͟that ̵gave̴ ̴me s̶o̸ ̷mu̸ch po̧we͝r͏?͡ It ͝on̕l̕y͢ s̛e͡e̕ms҉ ̡fa͠i̸r̸ ̴to̕ th̴ank ̢the͢m ͏i҉n re͏turn!̕ Don't̢ you̴ ̕t͢h͘ink҉ s͢o̴, ̴Jack?̢**

 

“Fuck...you..” Jack returned.

 

A scowl came to Anti’s face. For a few seconds he glitched out in anger. If you watched you could see his hold tighten on the knife and how he almost came out of the seat and right for Jack.

 

But he stopped himself and glitched back into his seat. He seemed to bite through his next words painfully.

 

**We͘̕͜'̴̷̨r͠҉͝e̛͡ a̧͞i̛m҉̧͝i̴͘ng͞ ̸͘fo̸͝r͞҉ ͟͞1̶00̴̕,̶̷̢0̛0̶̷0̢͜ ̵d̡o̵̢͜l͘l͢ar̸s ҉̴t̛od̛ay̧͠!͝ ͏W̴̵e͟ ̶͠a̧l̷͘s̨͏o̷͞ gǫt͏͏͡ ̧̨a̡ ͘s̵p̸e͞͡c̷i̸͢al͞͝ ̶̵a̶̧n͞o̵͏n̶͜y̵͢m̧ous̶̡ ̕do҉͠n̸̴o̢͏r w̶̕h͞o̕ ̷͠hą͡s p̵le̕͜d͢͝g͢͞e̕d҉͡ ̕͢to̸̕͡ ̨̧͞m̢͠a̶҉t̕c̨҉h͞, ͠҉̕s͢o̡ w҉͏e҉̡'̸ļl ̸̡b̵e mak̢i̧n̡͝g̢ ̢2͘0͘͝͞0̨͝,̷͘0͠҉0̵͝0 ͞d͏o͟l̡͟͞ļa̶̸̸r͘s҉!̢̢ ̶A̕͜n̕͠ḑ̴ ̸̧̧d̶on͜'̴͘t͢ ̧̛yo̢͡u̢͜ ͞w̢͝o̕͞rr̕y͢,̡ ̛̛s͏ǫ͏͠m̵̛ethi̸n҉̕g̷̛͡ R͟E͡A҉̵L̶LY҉ ̵s̴p̴͘e̵͞͏cia̛͢l ͜w҉i̢l̡l ͘h̕͘͟a̸͘p̢҉p͟͝en͡ w̸̕h͢͞en ̷͢w̧e̵̢̕ r̨e͠͠͝ą͢͝c̨h ͏͏o̸u̵͟͟r͏ ͢҉̷g̴̢o͜͟a̛l̛.̕͠͞**

 

Anti leaned away, showing the sign in the background.

 

**W̶e ̢can ̕ḑo͏ i̴t!͏ A͢͠͞ft͟͡er͏ ̨̛͠al̶l̢,̶̵͞ w̴̡͘e̶̡ ̴h̶̸͘a͢͢v̶͢͞e̵ ͝o҉̨u̡r ̶͟P͡M͟͠A̕͡͝!͜͟ ͡O͟u̡r̨͘ ͞p̵os̡̛͢iţi͝v͘҉e͝͞ly̸,͝ ̸̸͟m͝u̧͜r̸̕͢d̶̨er͏ous ͞҉̡a̢̛tt̨i̢t̷u̵͟d̸e҉s̷̴!̷̡͟** **C҉ǫ̕m̨͞e ̨͟o̧n͞ ͘J͞ack̶҉̷,͟ s̸͢a̷͘y ̕͡i̢͜t̶͡ ̢̧w҉͞įth͢ ̷͝͞m̸e͏̷!̛ ̛͟P̢M҉̡A!̵͡ ͢P̡͜M҉A!͡͝**

 

“I..won’t let you turn that against them...” Jack mumbled, glaring at Anti.

 

**O͢͝h҉̷ ̵͜͝r͟͜ea̶̕҉ll̢y?̧͞ ̴̛I̵̡̧ ͢͏̸gų̷͜e҉̕s͞s w͝e̸͏'ll͟ ͟h̶a҉͡v͠e ̢̢͏t̢͡ơ̷҉ ̴̡s̨̢e͏e̵̸ ̶ţ͟ḩe̷n̡͞.̴̷**

 

Anti chuckled, twirling the knife in his hand.

 

**T͞he ҉hash̢ta̵g͡ fǫr t̷h̢i͝s̷ ̢st͢r̛ea̡m̨ ̕i̷s ͡#͟S͞epticS҉acr̨if̴ice,҉ m̸ak͞e s͏ur̕e͘ ͜t̕o ҉only̸ se̸n̛d̛ i͠n ̵the b͠ęst a̡r̴t̛ ̶f̕o͟r̶ it̡.͏.҉**

 

**A͜͢n͏d̛͜ ̧t̨o̢͡ ͏al͏͞l̶ ̵͜of ̢͡y͝o̸͢u̢͡..̶̕.̢͘͞**

 

**E̶͡͏n̵͘j̵̶o̷y̸ ̵t̛h̷e̕ ̡͢s̷͝h̢͢o̴w̢͢!͘**

 

* * *

 

**O͡h l͘o͏o̵k! ̴Anothe͡r ͘t͘h͘o͞u͏s͏ąnd ̶d͠o҉ll̴ar͟ don̷a̡ti̶o҉n! T̵his̛ ̷on̕e ͏i͟s̷ ̧fr̢om ͟Ņo̷ra̷! ̛We͢l̷l ̵t̡h̶e̕n͞,̛ ͢ti͠me for̶ a̧no̕t̴her͘ ̡nam͝e҉, ̛Jac͏k!̡**

 

The man struggled, trying to push himself and the chair he was in away. Scars littered his skin, some still bleeding. Those were the names of other donors, who were simply providing a slow torture for Jack.

 

He whimpered, the ropes around his hands rubbing and causing the abrasions on his wrists to worsen. Anti got up, slowly making his way over to Jack, knife in hand. A loud, scrapping sound was heard as Anti dragged the knife across a nearby table. The sound resounded in Jack’s ears, memories of the previous donors’ names being carved into his skin, almost like he was a pumpkin being carved for Halloween.

 

Anti grabbed Jack by his chin and forced his head to the side. Jack’s breathing quickened and he shut his eyes tightly.

 

**I͏ ̢th̴i͞nk w͟e'll ͜g͜o͡ f̧or you͝r chee͏ķ ͢n͟e̶x͠t.̷ M͝ake i̢t͢ a̕ll͡ nic͠e ͟for w̴hen͜ ̧you s͝mile ̛and̛ ͟th͏ank̸ ͘Nora ͏for her wo͘n̷d̵er͡fu͞l͢ ̕do̢na̷t̕ion̸!**

 

_Please stop, it’s been enough!_ The poor man thought, his breath catching in his throat.

 

The knife plunged into his cheek and Jack screamed, the sudden sharp, pain causing him to jolt. It sounded like both a man desperate for relief and a wounded animal.

 

**No͘w̡, ͜no͟w͘,̸ ̵ke͠e͠p ͞s҉t͟i҉ll̛. Wh̶o ̛kņo͠w̡s ͞w̵h͟a̛t̷'̧l͢l͟ ͟ha̡ppe̛n͢ ͜i̡f͡ ͡I slįp̵!**

 

_Just stop, there doesn’t need to be anymore of this!_ Jack squirmed, trying all he could to just somehow get away from the glitch.

 

As Anti was finishing the name, he forced the knife further in. A squishy sound was heard, followed by something clanging.

 

**O͢h͞!͏ ̛Loo̶k̛s ͡like͞ ͟I've̛ cu͡t̸ ͢a͢l͟l ̸the̸ ̵wa̸y ̕to ̢yoųr̕ t̷e͠eth! Whoo҉p҉s, ̛be̛tt͏e͜r ͝f̛ix̶ tha҉t͟!**

 

The glitch grinned as he slowly pulled the knife back out. Blood spurted and oozed and more sounds of muscle and tissue squishing together and being torn apart was heard as he wiggled the knife a bit, acting as if it was stuck.

 

After he pulled it out, he set the knife back down on the table, the fresh blood gleaming in the light. Anti grabbed Jack by his hair, and forced him to look into the camera.

 

**G̵o ̸ah̸ead, Jack! ͘** **T̵͟H̶̡A̵͘N͠K͞҉ ̶͠H̢͢ȨR̶͢!͜**

 

Anti jerked him by his hair again, causing Jack to gasp and whimper. As he spoke, the blood pooling in his mouth slowly dribbled out.

 

“Thank….you….” he managed to say, then quickly gagged at the dominating taste of copper forming in his mouth.

 

**It̵'s͏ ̶n͡o̷t ͏t͘im̵e̸ ͝y͢e͘t ͝to s̶t̢art ̵t̡h̸r͟o͢w͢i͡ng͏ ͟up,҉ ̸t͟h̡at's͝ f͡or͠ late͟r̡! ҉No͜w̵,͏ ͡h͜o̵w a̵bơu͏t͢ ̨we ch̕e͞ck ou̡t̕ th҉e hashta҉g ͘an͢d҉ ͏se͡e ͏w̡h̶at t͝h͞e͢ ̧pup̕p̡e̸t͟s̢ ḩav͞e̛ ̨b̨eęn͜ u͜p̢ to̷?͠**

 

Anti took a seat on the table and looked through Jack’s phone. The tag was blowing up everywhere. Twitter, Tumblr, they were all screaming his name, just as he wanted.

 

**He̛r̨e'͟s a҉ ҉lo͜v҉el͢y ͜p̨iec̡ȩ!̵ T̸hey͠'v̡e ca҉p͠t͏ioņe͞d this̶ ͡w͝i͢th "Ple̛as̸e ͡spa͞r͡e҉ J͞ac̵k!͟ I͠'̶ll ̢tak̶e his̕ ͢p͟la͢ce!"͢**

 

Anti snapped his fingers and there appeared a glitchy form of the picture. It was of someone’s arm, with Anti’s name carved into it.

 

“No!” Jack screamed, blood spurting out and staining the floor more.

 

Anti laughed.

 

**Your̶ ̵c̶o͘m̸mun̸ity͘ ̨i͜s̵ tear̢i͠ng͡ ͠th͟e̢m͘selve̢s apa̛rt̢ ̡for ͟me̡!͘ ͢To͟o̧ ҉b̸a̡d ̶t͟heir "s̸acrifi̷c͢e" ̶w̧as i͡n͡ va̧in҉.̡ I̴'̧m n̶ot͟ t͝raḑi͡n͢g any͘one for͞ ̵y͏ou̵!**

 

“Just stop this...you can still stop this!” Jack yelled.

 

**St̴o̷p this? ̵As͟ ͞i̵f̕!͠ ͞Y͘ou a͜l͞l͜ ͘get̷ ̛to͡ w̛it͡n̛e͢ss ̷th̴is!̶ ̧Yo̵u all are ̸i͝n͘vol̛ved i̕n t̛ḩis!**

 

Anti suddenly turned to the camera, wiping away the fan’s picture.

 

**Yo̕u ̴c͝ou̸ld͞'͟ve st̴op͞p҉ed͏ ̧m͏e before! B͢ut ̶o̧h, ̷it̕'̨s t̨oo ͠l͞a͘te̷ ņow̶...͏Y͘ou̷'ŗȩ ͜all̵ ̶jo͞i͝n̨ing̴ ̨me in this!̡ ̛Yo͘u ̡a̛rę ̧my p͘u̡ppe͡ts̛, and̶ ̶pup͡pe̶t҉s ̛m͟u̶s͡t li͠s̢ten҉ ̕to͢ their҉ ͠p̵upp̨et m̸a̛ste͜r!͘** **Y̶ou̵ ar͡e̕ ̵go͢in͏ģ to͏ ͠sit ͞h̨er͠e͡ an̶d͞ ̢exper͡i͡en͡c͟e t̷his̡ ̧beca͞us̵e ͝y͘ou ̸al̶l̡ w̸ant t͢h͝is ̷as ͘mu̸c҉h̶ ̸a̧s ̕I d̕o!**

 

* * *

 

 

Panic resurfaced from fans when the live stream came back from its break. The setting had changed completely. Jack seemed to be trapped in a building, a very high one at that. Upon closer inspection, fans were able to tell that it was the British Airway’s i360 tower that Jack had talked about in a vlog. Jack’s hands were tied down to the railing, making it impossible to get away from the high view.

 

Jack was shaking and kept pulling at his restraints. He looked like he had been here a while. He kept trying to look behind him, searching for something, or as his fans knew, someone.

 

“Damn it!” the man yelled, tugging uselessly.

 

The words echoed throughout the room. It was eerily quiet, almost like the calm before the storm.

 

The sounds of glitching and static interrupted for a split second, causing Jack to try and look around again. Anti remained out of sight of him, but those watching could see him perfectly.

 

**I̶t m͢us͠t͢ b̷e͢ really̡ fru̡stratin҉g̷,͢ ͜not ͞kn̢owi̡n͝g w͜hat҉'s ͞go̡i̛ng͜ ͜on̷ b̵eh҉i͟nḑ y̨o͝u̸,͘ ͢but҉ on͘ly see̵i͟n̵g͢ s͘omȩt̷h͟i̢n͘g ̢yo͜u̕ ͟fea͠r͜ ahe̡ad of ̛y͟o͟u.**

 

“Shut up, just shut up!” Jack replied.

 

Anti appeared in Jack’s peripheral vision, that haunting smirk on his face.

 

**Buįl͘ding ̛so͞me ͢n̴e̸rv͟e͘ n̸o͜w, are̵ you?̴ W͢ȩll҉, ҉t̛ha̴t͞ ͞wo͜n'͏t ląst͝..**

 

The glitch disappeared out of sight. Jack faced forward, trying to keep his breathing steady. The height was definitely daunting. 531 feet in the air, one would defintely be a splatter if they fell from this height.

 

_Would anyone even be able to tell it was me?_ Jack thought, picturing what would be left of himself laying at the bottom and cringing.

 

Suddenly, Jack was shoved closer to the edge. He gasped and tightly gripped the railing as his top half leaned over the edge, very close to the window. The glitch behind him spoke.

 

**I͘t̛ ͡w̕o͝uļd͢ ̡be҉ ̢very ea̵s̴y to ̛jus͢t ͘b͠re͜a̵k ̡t͢h͡e͢ ̷gl͜ass̵ and͏ ͘wat͜c̡h y̢ou fal̕l, ͝but̷ ̷that̨ ̵ta̷ke͡s̸ ̛the fu̵n͜ o͞u͜t o͘f th͞įs͟.̢**

 

Jack stared ahead, panic quickly building up in him. The view seemed to start to spin and Jack blinked a few times, trying to steady himself. Behind him he thought he could hear his loved ones calling for him. No...not calling for him. Their voices seemed warped. Loud, harsh words berating him and telling him to jump flooded his ears. He teared up, trying to convince himself that this was just a hallucination.

 

_They wouldn’t say things like that_ He thought, desperately trying to focus on that feeling.

 

Soon a chorus of voices joined in. He glanced back and could just barely make out the shapes of others behind him.

 

_The community_ he realized.

 

They joined in on the screaming as well. All of them, his family, his friends, the community he had built, telling him how worthless he was, how he was wasting his life away doing this, how he had disappointed them, and that he should just jump.

 

The tears flowed as he tried to find some way to distract himself. However, the voices were too loud and overpowered even his own thoughts.

 

His legs felt shaky and he started apologizing. Anti watched behind him, reveling in his misery.

 

The fans in the comments, at least those who still were trying to help, kept trying to tell him that it was ok and that he was loved. They started sharing their own stories of Jack’s influence in their lives and how he had helped them.

 

Too bad those words fell on deaf ears.

 

Anti was in control, and the only love that was gonna be shown was to him.

 

* * *

 

 

Not too long after that, the live stream cut out again and when it resumed, the pair were back where they originally were. Jack was tied back down into his chair. He was staring ahead blankly, eyes red and tears still streaming down his face. The only difference now was that his shirt was gone and there was a dotted line down his torso.

 

Anti came over, a roll of duct tape in hand. Easily, he tore off a piece and put it over Jack’s mouth. Jack barely reacted to it, just shut his eyes and trembled a little.

 

**Alri͏gh͘t ̛foļk̸s̷,̵ ͟it҉'̴s̴ tim͡e҉ ͜f̨o͜r͝ o҉u͠r̵ fi̧na͡l ̕eve̢n̴t!W̴e sh͢ou͜l̨d͏ hi͡t the ̡10͝0̡,0̕0͜0 ̧m̵a̛r͠k͏ as͢ ̶I'm̴ do͡i̸ng this!**

 

He pointed at the dotted line.

 

**I'v͟e take̸n the͏ ̛l̸i͜b̸erty ̴o͢f pr҉epp̷in͟g͡ ̧J͠ack her̨e fo̡r it̢.̴ ̢Le̸t̷'s s̕ee i҉f҉ ̨Jac͏k͠'s̨ ̡i̷n̶side͜s are j͠us̕t like ͢ev͞e̢ryon͜e̴ ͞el̴se's̴!͡ ̷I̶'͝d ͏be̢ w͟ill̴in͡g̡ ͏t̡o bet t҉h̡ere'̡s̷ no͜t҉hi̷n͝g s͜pe͞c͠i͜al̷ a̵b͝o̢ut h҉i҉m̡!̵ ͝A͝f̵t͜e͟r ̕all-͢**

 

Anti gestured to his own slit throat.

 

**I ̧know h͘im, i͢n͞si͞d͟e ̶an͜d ̶ou͢t͟.**

 

Anti chuckled and turned to face Jack. He crouched down and went to work. The knife easily went into Jack’s skin. Jack whimpered, but other than that made no other noise. The man was truly broken.

 

Anti carved down until he reached Jack’s belly button. He pulled out the knife and placed it to the side. Then he grabbed the sides and pulled them apart, exposing Jack’s insides.

 

Jack tensed up and squeezed his eyes shut. His body shook from the pain. His breathing sped up and he bit back a scream, drawing out some blood.

 

**Well̶ ̵l͘oo̷k at҉ ͘ţhat,͘ ̨I̛ ͠was r҉ig͜ht!̡ ̸**

 

Anti grinned and reached in. He grabbed Jack’s intestine and pulled. Jack gave up and let out an animalistic scream, though the sound was muffled with his mouth duct-taped shut.

 

Anti laughed and raised up the intestine up to Jack’s face. Jack recoiled, nose scrunching up.

 

**A̕w ̛c'͟m͢on̶, ̨i҉t͏'̴s ̶ju͟st y̡our ͏o̷wn ̸in̴si͠de̛s̡! ̵W͠hy ̶do͞n͡'t ̷I ̴p͠ul̛l̷ out ͡mor̕e?̕ I͠'̶ll ͞mak̕e̵ su̴r̕e̸ to̷ ̕no͞t pu̴ll ͡any̡th̸ing͟ ͘t͡h̵at's͢ t̡oo v̷i͟tal out͞ ͢yet͏!**

 

He continued. Organ and organ was pulled out and presented to Jack and the audience. The steady increase of his insides coming out began to make Jack feel nauseous. Anti’s hands and knife plunging into him, scraping around to find more just to fill his own sick desire. It was like he was infecting him. Jack shuddered at the thought.

 

Anti noticed and smirked. His hand plunged in and grabbed his stomach.

 

**W͟h̛at's͜ t͞he ̶ma̷t̨t̡er, ̡J͘a͟c̵k̴? ̵G͜ot̢ a͡ nęrv͡ous̨ s̵t͘om͢ac̢h?**

 

Anti squeezed. Jack jerked back and suddenly felt like he was gonna be sick. He felt his food from earlier come up and he vomited. However, there was nowhere for the food to go with the duct tape covering the vomit’s exit. The vomit sloshed in his mouth, warm and chunky. Jack groaned, the vomit making him feel sicker. He squirmed, looking for some form of release. The vomit slid around, some managing to sneak through and drool out the side of his mouth, other parts being swallowed back down, and even some coming out of his nose mixed with snot.

 

He was, undeniably, a mess.

 

**Ah͜, I̡ s͠e͠e͜ we'v̨e re҉ac̡he̛d ͟our ģo̧a͏l̵ ̛a͢nd̡ t͟h̨e a͝nony̧m̶o҉u͝s ̸dono͏r̡ h̕as dona͘te͘d a͢s͡ w̷e̡ll! C̛ong͞r̡a͜t҉s J̸ac̢ki͠e, ̴i̡t͟'҉s͟ ͠a̛ll̛ o̸v̴er!̵**

 

_Please just let me go…_ He thought, squirming like an animal caught in a trap.

 

**I t͏hink ̢y̢ou͜ ͢al̴l ͏d͘ese͜rve a trop̛h̶y̕ ̶f̕o̕r t̢h͞is͜ ḩa͏r͘d wor͠k̢ yo҉u̷'͝ve̴ done̷. Allow ̛m̕e͟ ͞t̕o ͡g͠ive̢ ̧on҉e ̕to ͡y̨ou!͞**

 

Anti got up. He quickly positioned the table where it was in front of the camera. Then he went and grabbed Jack by his hair and forced his head back. Jack stared back up at him, eyes wide like a dear in the headlights.

 

Anti plunged the knife into Jack’s neck. Jack screamed and wiggled under him, trying to find a way out, but there was nowhere for him to go. Anti hummed as he kept cutting, the knife going further in and across his neck. Eventually, he quieted. The fans watched on in utter horror.

 

After some time, Jack’s head came off. Anti grinned triumphantly and brought it over to the table. He set it down and positioned it to face the camera. He took off the duct tape and forced the head to smile. Vomit mixed with blood poured out and though his eyes were glazed over, there still appeared to be a look of disappointment on his face. Almost like he was disappointed in his fans for allowing this to happen.

 

**Tha̡nk you ̢s͝o ͠m҉u̡ch̵ fo͠r̛ jơi̕n̡inģ ͠me in t̛h͜įs! N͜ow̕ that͡ t͏ha̷t's ov͢e͠r ̧wit̸h̴,͝ ̕I ͜b͡e̵t ̡y̸o̢u ̸can't͏ ͘w͡a̕it̷ ͜t̛ơ see ͏w̡h͘a͢t̵ ͟I'̕ll̡ d͜o ̢nex̡t.͞**

 

Anti chuckled.

 

**You͠'l͟l͠ ͢h̨av͘e ͞t͘o keep ͞w̵atch͟iņg͏ to ̷f͟iņd ͝o̷ut.**

 

He waved.

 

**S̴̴͟͠͝e̸̶e̵͢ ͢͏͜͠y̧͟ǫư͠ ̢͏s̷͡o͝͞͠o̷͠ņ̵.̸**


End file.
